Wherefore Art Thou, Romeo?
by 94 Bottles Of Snapple
Summary: Ok, so despite the kidnapping, the temper, and the uncannily infuriating ability to halt attempted escape almost before it started, Turkey wasn't such a bad guy...  Turmano, rated T for language
1. Wherefore Art Thou, Prologue?

**A/N: … So, you know what they say about starting a new story… But I made a promise! See, I found this neat little roleplaying site, and, well… Awesome things happened! And so, this story (and this pairing…) was born! **

**Dedicated to Sadi, aka the RPer for Turkey on the awesome RP site 'World Paradise Hetalia'~! **

**I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters!**

Prologue: A Note from our Narrator

Ciao. My name is Lovino Vargas, but that's not usually what I'm called. Most people know me as Romano, Italy's Brother, or Asshole. But I'm not here to talk about most people. And good riddance, since I doubt most of them want to talk about me, either.

Anyway, I've had a long, hard life, but I won't bore you with my sob story here, as most of my past is exposed throughout the story I'm about to narrate to you. As you'll find, I'm not exactly sociable, and I'm not going to censor myself for the likes of you—I say what I mean (ok, unless I'm being defensive, but shut up, dammit!), and I'm not sorry about it either.

…

However, I'm not a bad guy…

I may be rude and cynical, but I'm not evil or sadistic or cruel.

… I guess maybe you're wondering what it is I _am_ going to tell you about, if it's not most people I know or my past (although both do crop up, at points). Well…

I'm going to tell you about something a little more recent in my life. Something that changed a lot of things for me, even though it started out as something I was sure was just another unlucky day in the life of Lovino Vargas.

It all started with a kidnapping. And no, despite the skeptical glares you're probably giving me, I didn't kidnap someone. Chigi… _I_ was the one who was kidnapped. And, though it might seem kind of strange to someone else, being kidnapped has been kind of a normal occurrence for me since my childhood.

Austria, Spain, France … Well, you get used to it.

And there was this one bastard who just wouldn't give up…

… But I won't talk about that now.

Anyway… I think, more than anything else, my story will be about a person. A single, seemingly insignificant person in a sea of people—one nation among hundreds.

A person I've feared, hated, respected…

And now… Maybe even care for.

A person to whom I was not known by any of the names and titles I produced at the beginning of this passage.

A person who called me Romeo.


	2. Wherefore Art Thou, Kidnapper?

**A/N: Wow, I'm working fast, huh? ... For once.**

**Hey, if you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us!**

**In any case, chapter one! Still don't own Hetalia!**

Well, I'm not sure if I'm ready to tell this tale, but hell if that's gonna stop me… Here I go.

It was just another day—another day like almost any other in the life of Lovino Vargas. And, like any other day, it was very, very lonely. Not that I'd admit that, or anything. But no matter how much I'd attempt to refute such a thing, it was true.

Veneciano had left home to stay with Germany (that potato bastard!) for a while.

Now, let me just say here, I have nothing against my idiot brother's happiness. Nothing at all. However, like I said, he's an idiot. I know what kind of shit Germany's done. It broke Veneciano's heart when he first found out. But I also know that Veneciano still cares for the bastard despite that.

So I grudgingly give my blessing (not that it'd stop them from affiliating if I didn't) and make sure to keep a sharp eye out for any sign of trouble. After so much bad luck in my life, I have a knack for spotting betrayal, and hell if I was gonna let that potato bastard hurt my brother again.

As much as the idiot does need a dropkick to the head, he doesn't deserve a knife to the heart.

But I've strayed from my topic.

Veneciano was gone, and Spain was gone too.

Now, don't worry (because unlike with me, I know everyone gives a shit about if that tomato bastard is alive and well), he was perfectly fine. However, he was out, and though it's not in my nature to care if I interrupt him, he'd forgotten to leave a note to say where, exactly, he was.

That, too, is not a worrisome detail, as it is another thing the space cadet of a Spaniard is wont to do.

In any case (though it is embarrassing to admit to myself), beyond my brother and Spagna, I really have no one else to associate with. Thus, my state, on that day, of annoyed solitude.

So, that was that.

Until…

Suddenly, I wasn't alone anymore.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end the second I saw the white glint of an eye mask. The second the ominous figure from my childhood was in full view, I had a hard time not running. What, I'm an Italy too, you know?

This man was Sadiq Adnan, otherwise known as the country of Turkey. But to me, he had always been the figure of my nightmares—the ruthless Ottoman Empire.

However… I was not so small as I was in the years that I had been nearly captured again and again by Turkey. And besides… All those times before, he had been thwarted not by Spagna, who had been my guardian (my 'boss', he insisted) at the time, but by his own hunger. Each time he got close to kidnapping me, he would always decide it was time to eat and return to his home across the Mediterranean.

It was this, coupled with my adult height and my (ok, admittedly slight) rise in courage that allowed me to stand across from him with what I hoped was an impressive glare. Then again, perhaps it was my famed stubbornness that would further allow me to argue with him in my usual temper—a thing usually reserved for Spain or Germany.

"Well, well, look what we have here," he mused, upon spotting me.

And that tone did nothing to make me less irritable. In fact, it bolstered my courage to a point that my snappy comeback was quicker and angrier than usual.

"Yeah, bastard, an old guy who always gets hungry at just the wrong time," I growled angrily. "The hell do you want? Just go home and get a snack, already, asshole!"

In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best move to say something like that…

But it's not like I can change things now.

He practically erupted at that, in any case.

"Ya little brat! Say that to my face!" he snarled, stomping forward until his tanned hand was clutching the collar of my shirt in an iron grip.

And though the action scared me, I was indignant beyond words. So I expressed my anger in the only few words that I could.

"Fuck you, bastard!"

That, also, was probably not a wise decision, given our current position; namely, that he had a hand at the collar of my shirt, and another that could quite easily make a beeline for my nose.

However, that is not what happened. With a glare, Turkey used his free hand to grab the top of my head and squeeze, hard. It hurt like a bitch, let me tell you, but I was so worked up I wasn't going to cry about it then.

"Ya need to learn a little respect!" he muttered angrily. "If you'd a' lived with me instead of Spain, you wouldn't be so damned impudent!"

"O-ow… I'm fine the way I am, bastard!" I replied as best I could, wincing and struggling.

As you may well know, much to my chagrin, I am no great fighter. I can give a mean head-butt, but that's about it… Whereas Turkey, being a former empire, had quite a bit of strength to spare. As you could probably figure out, my struggling was really little more than a meager show of defiance, for all the good it did.

To add insult to injury, he seemed to be ignoring me.

"In fact… That's a wonderful idea. I'll call my boss now!"

I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, and I didn't like the sound of it at all, but all that I could think were joyous thoughts of sweet relief when he released his death grip on my skull to grab his cell phone.

After a few seconds of recovery, however, I still wasn't inclined to see what it was the Turkish bastard had to say to his boss. In fact, it only took a few moments to find myself about three miles from the clearing he'd first cornered me in. Like I told you before, I'm an Italy too, and my legs are no less skilled at fleeing than my brother's. Whether such a thing is fortunate or unfortunate I'll let you decide for yourself.

I'll stop there for now, to give you a little relief from what you must by now perceive as my bitching. But, hey, if you want to keep reading, feel free, because I'll keep writing until I can get all of this off my chest.


	3. Wherefore Art Thou, Hiding Place?

**A/N: On to chapter two!**

**Like I said last chapter, if you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**Still don't own Hetalia!**

I'm pretty sure last time we left off with me running for my life. Which, admittedly, does happen a lot.

However, I hadn't had a confrontation with Turkey since I was a child. World Conferences were the only time we saw each other (as, while it is a jab at him, it is also a fact that Turkey has not been permitted to join the European Union), and even then, there are so many countries at World Conferences that we barely spared each other more than a passing glance.

… Besides, Spain had never been too far from me whenever I had encountered Turkey. Not that he was ever far from me for too long anyway. And even if I acted, or even was, annoyed by Spain most of the time… It was nice to have him close when people that scared me (like Turkey, for instance) were around. Even if the tomato bastard was as embarrassing as hell…

But that would be far from the point, currently. Because Spain was nowhere in sight, and nowhere that he'd be able to help. Which, of course, was why I was running in the first place. Now, even I knew that Turkey was a pretty stubborn guy. Not to mention if I just kept running forever, I'd just get worn down. I needed a hiding spot.

A hiding spot less conspicuous than the tomato box that Veneciano always used when he needed a hiding place.

Because he actually did that once, in World War I. I only heard about it from him later, but I couldn't even form the words to explain to him how incredibly moronic it was. You'll understand that every once in a while even my expletives fail me. That was one of those times.

Anyway, while attempting to find somewhere that would make a good hiding place, I happened to notice the fact that I was practically surrounded by trees. Climbable trees.

Like any idiot with a plan, I executed my idea almost as soon as I got it. I was probably a little too frantic, and I scraped my hands a few times as I scrambled up the nearest tree. Once I was up to what I deemed was a respectable height—about 16 feet above the ground—I stopped climbing and simply stood, hanging onto the bark of the tree I had chosen for my climb.

Now, I have deemed myself too frantic not only for the reason that I injured myself (in vain, as you'll soon see), but also because all though it was far too soon for me, it took Turkey a distinctively long time to show up.

The bastard was probably strolling casually through the forest following my footsteps. The idea of that is so infuriating that I don't like to dwell on it long.

In any case…

I swore in those moments after his appearance, as he wandered around the area nonchalantly that my heart, constant traitor as it is (this also you will find out, although significantly later than the information I promised you would learn last time), was beating out a rhythm that could be heard in the Americas.

I felt the whole time as if surely he must know that I was right there above his head, clinging, white-knuckled and pitiful, to that tree. However, he did not look up.

But then he said something that made my heart lurch.

"Hmmm… Where could he have gone…"

And though the words were relieving, the tone was so sarcastic that it made my blood run cold. I paled and squeezed my eyes shut tight, clutching the tree with as much strength as I could muster—hugging myself to the trunk for all it was worth.

"Shitshitshitshit," I muttered under my breath as I trembled.

I was too damn scared to worry about how stupid and helpless I would look—it didn't matter.

At least at the time.

In any case, even though he did know where I was, it didn't seem as if he was about to do anything about it. He was waiting for me to screw up, and hell if I was gonna give him that satisfaction! I'd stay up there silent until he got bored and left. I wasn't particularly fond of contemplating in those seconds that if he got bored with his game, he'd probably just climb up the tree and grab me.

But, while I was satisfied with the status quo and my delusions of possible freedom, no one else was. Especially not a bird, who seemed to feel that I had invaded its territory. And, in a great stroke of wondrous (I'm being sarcastic) irony, it greatly resembled the white bird that had irritated me before I was captured by Turkey (or, at the time, the Ottoman Empire) when I was a child on my way from Spain's house back to my own.

And, just like the other bird, this one tweeted especially loudly, as if laughing at me.

"S-shut up!" I hissed at it, I'll admit a great deal louder than I should have.

And then he looked up, a smirk flashing at me from just below his mask. As it was pretty much the only of his facial features I could make out with that mask on, that made it all the more prominent. And all the more frustratingly terrifying.

He chuckled a little, shaking his head at me, and then held out his arms.

"C'mon, kid, jump down! There's nowhere else to run. I'll catch ya, I promise!" he called up at me.

Well, like hell was I going to do that! I might be well… A bit of a coward… But I was definitely not going to be captured in a way _anyone_ could misinterpret as willingly. Ever!

And, as usual, I held out on one last delusional hope.

"… Maybe that Turkish bastard can't climb trees…?" I muttered to myself, before shouting down at him. "NEVER!"

And then, he tried to bargain with me. To convince me to come down.

I doubt he realized at the time how very hardheaded I am. Besides… After centuries of being free of anyone's rule save my own, what kind of idiot would I be to give it all up at the drop of a hat? Even Feliciano wasn't that dumb, although he probably would have surrendered already if he were in my position. But that's why I'm the older brother.

"Come on! Do not make me come up there!" he threatened, rather, I thought to myself at the time, weakly. "I promise I will take care of ya! I will protect you, better than that Spain guy. If anyone tries to pick on you, I will be there just as quickly to stand up for ya."

And that just made me angry.

I was my own country! I didn't need anyone's help to stand up for myself and Veneciano; not Spain's, and definitely not Turkey's!

But even then, I hadn't completely blown my top.

Until he went on to say the word I have abhorred more than any other throughout my long life.

"Promise."

If I didn't know I would get my ass handed to me, I'd have jumped down and tried to kill him then and there.

I snarled something at him, I was seeing too much red to properly remember what, and I could actually make out his eyes flash in anger from my height. It was a terrifying thing to behold, the anger of a former empire.

Despite the clear rage on his face, he continued to try and speak calmly.

"I won't ask again!" he shouted in warning. "I told you what I said, and I'm sticking to it! Now, I'll give ya one more chance before I take ya by force!"

"No! I won't!"

I panicked, eyes flocking frantically around for a route of escape. I saw nothing.

"Just come down willingly already!" Turkey ordered, irritated.

I would not.

And then I spotted a branch not three feet from me. A branch from another tree. Still keeping a tight hold to the trunk of my tree for balance, I stretched out to try and grab onto the sturdy branch I could see.

"… A-almost…"

My arm fell a little short.

Well, by this time, Turkey had lost what little patience he had.

"Alright, fine!" he ground out, scaling the tree at an alarming rate.

I reached out as far as I could, straining for the other tree. And then there was a tug on my foot, and for a few horrifying seconds, I was falling.

My life started to flash before my eyes.

… It sucked.

That aside, just as quickly as I had started to fall, I stopped.

"Got ya."

Now, as relieving as it was that I was no longer toppling to the forest floor, it was because there was a muscular arm wrapped tightly around my waist. And as if a situation like that wouldn't be uncomfortable enough already, it was quite obvious whose arm it was.

After all, Turkey was the only one around, perhaps for miles.

I flushed bright red, in anger and embarrassment, and tried to pry his arm away from me.

"L-l-let go!" I demanded, glaring darkly at him.

He just shook his head, smirking.

"If I did that, you'd fall."

And so his grip remained firm as he climbed down the tree, one-handed (at this point in the story, I must admit that I'm incredibly jealous of his upper-body strength to be able to pull that off. Not that I'd ever admit it to the bastard or anything). Still, as soon as we were firmly on the ground and there was no danger of me falling, I tried once again to shove him off.

"I will not let go until I know that you won't run away. It's either that... or chains! Whatever one you want," he sneered.

Now, to be argumentative, I certainly didn't _want_ either. But though I hated him and I wanted nothing to do with him being within a thousand miles of me, let alone gripping my wrist so I couldn't escape (for he had, thankfully, shifted his grip away from my waist), chains would make things even more difficult, and afford me less mobility.

"Ugh… Dammit…" I muttered, having realized my very limited options.

"Ah, there. You were a bit more troublesome than you were when you were younger Romeo," he told me in an almost good-natured manner.

This was the first time he'd addressed me like this. I learned later he had a shockingly creative variety of nicknames for all of the nations he encountered regularly. At the time, I thought he was making fun of me, but I wonder now if he didn't choose it because of my, true to genetics, rather suave nature when it comes to (most) women. Because the tone itself was not one of mockery, and the nickname slipped off his tongue easily.

The fact that he had chosen such a name based on this that early, though… The thought was a little troubling. What, had he been watching me?

He continued to speak, however.

"So, guess chains are not what ya want huh? I will hold onto you then til I know for sure you're not going to run off," he explained to me casually, as if he wasn't kidnapping me out of nowhere.

However, I did have one last jab at him.

"I'll get away somehow, dammit! … I always do…" I muttered angrily.

His grip tightened a little, and I could tell my wrist was going to bruise.

"You just keep thinking that, Romeo," he replied, grinning though I could hear an undertone of malice in his voice. "Now, be a good kid for once."

And that was how I ended up far away across the Mediterranean from my home, in Turkey's house. An altogether unfortunate set of affairs, if I do say so myself.

It was a little strange though, as I had never actually seen Turkey's house. Spain had always saved me before I'd ever even left the coast. So it was for a few seconds that I reflected on how ungrateful I'd been for not appreciating what a close watch he'd kept on me as a child.

Still, at the time I had faith that he'd come save me.

It's not like he wouldn't notice I was missing.

Right…?


	4. Wherefore Art Thou, Home?

**A/N: Chapter three! I'm working pretty fast, still, huh…?**

**Like I said, if you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**I must apologize to Iggy for the last chapter… In the original RP, there was a drunken pirate England (it was the 4****th**** of July at the time, you'll understand) however for sense-making purposes, the drunken England had to be cut out… I APOLOGIZE!**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

Turkey's house was huge. Now, that's a pretty vague sentence, but there's really no other way I can put it. But, it does make sense. After all, as I've mentioned several times now, he did use to be the Ottoman Empire. Having been an empire of such strength and wealth, one would obviously have a large house.

Well, many of the former empires had scaled back a bit. But Turkey, far as I knew, was one who didn't like to let go of his empire past. And it was forbidden to force a nation to downsize their personal home. Even for another nation. So Turkey could reminisce on his wealth and power all he wanted.

Not as if it concerned me in the least, I supposed.

Especially since I wouldn't be staying long. I was convinced of that more than anything else.

Well, even though I'd been compliant-but-rude and had not been tied up with chains (where would the bastard have gotten them anyway, in hindsight?), Turkey's iron grip had not relinquished itself from my wrist for a single second.

In fact, as he plopped onto the couch and then yanked on my arm so I'd fall back onto it as well, he was dialing the phone one-handed, cradling the receiver between his ear and shoulder. Then, as he waited for whoever the hell he'd called to answer, he shot me a victorious smirk.

I glared for all I was worth.

I know I'm not strong, but people rubbing in that they're in control always pisses me off.

However, he was soon distracted by the phone call he was making.

"Hey, me again," he said promptly, in way of greeting.

Then he paused, letting the voice on the other line, assumedly his boss, speak.

"Nah, it went all right!" he assured the voice on the other end cheerily. "He's right here next to me."

Another arrogant grin was sent my way, and I looked away angrily, scooting as far away as I could on the couch. … Turkish bastard…

"Nah, didn't see him," Turkey said after another question from the other end of the line.

My heart lurched at the immediate realization that he was talking about Spain. I bit my lip and clenched my eyes shut because dammit I do not cry.

"… Yeah, go ahead and talk to his boss… Alright, sounds awesome."

I bristled. Talk to my boss, huh… In that moment, if I had the strength to strangle Turkey, I would have done it in an instant. No thought at all.

He hung up the phone in a self-satisfied way and turned his attention back to me.

"Well, Romeo, looks like you're under Turkish rule now," Turkey grinned, tugging on my wrist.

"L-let go!" I demanded, trying to pull back and re-widen the distance between us.

With a chuckle, Turkey rolled his eyes and did just the opposite. Then he gripped my chin lightly, as if I was some easily flustered girl, smirking all the while.

"Heh! As if!" he laughed. "Again, til I know you're not going to run away, you're going to stay close to me for a while."

And my face was flushed as I glared at him. I was red with rage, of course, but…

Well… No one ever got so close to me on a regular basis.

… Except Spagna.

Just thinking about him made my chest tighten. What if he never noticed I was gone…? What if he did notice, but never found out I was kidnapped by Turkey…?

I shook the thoughts from my mind angrily, and pointedly avoided looking at Turkey until he released my chin. Once he did so, I once again scooted as far away as possible. Thankfully, for both of us, Turkey didn't press the matter this time.

True to his word, Turkey didn't let me out of his sight the rest of the day, and when I got my own room to sleep, the windows had been barred and the door was locked. Which certainly toned down my amazement at how well even a simple guest room was furnished. Damn Turkish bastard…

I was expecting things to be about the same way for a bit until I was rescued. It didn't happen that way.

At all.

The next morning, bright and early, the front door of Turkey's house was kicked open. The slam made me jump, and I woke at once. It took a minute or two to get my bearings and remember what had happened the day before.

After that, I picked the lock on the door and stormed down the stairs to find out what the hell was going on.

Now I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't do that earlier, say the night before. Personally, I was ok with waiting on Spagna, considering trying to escape on my own, at least while Turkey was close enough to stop me, was a dumb idea.

… But it was mostly for the satisfaction of mooching off the guy who kidnapped me.

I'll admit that much, at least.

Anyway… The reason I'd been woken at some ungodly hour of the morning (read: before 10:30am), happened to be the obnoxious older brother of the guy I hated most in the world. By simple deduction: Prussia.

"Hey, hey! Turkey, you up? The awesome me is here!"

I was half tempted to go lock myself back in the bedroom and slam my head against a wall.

However, being the unlucky bastard I am, I did not get the opportunity to do so.

"Well, if it isn't Ita-chan's grumpy, unawesome brother!"

And if there was a way to get me riled up, that was definitely it. Insulting me and comparing me to Veneciano in the same sentence was grounds for an ass-kicking.

"Shut up, potato bastard!" I snarled, stomping into the room fully.

He shot an irritated glance my way, and I smirked. If I could wipe the smug look of that bastard's face for even a second, life was good.

It was at that moment that I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs behind me. And then there was a yawn, and a large hand was resting on my right shoulder.

… No, not really resting. More like…

There was a warning grip on my shoulder.

And as I tensed, the hand gave an irritated squeeze. I could almost feel my collarbone creak under the hold.

Aw, shit.


	5. Wherefore Art Thou, Battlefield?

**A/N: Chapter four!**

**If you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! However, we will soon be moving to World Hetalia High, a site of the same nature also headed by Alice! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

After one last warning squeeze to my shoulder, Turkey walked up to Prussia with a grin, wrapping his left arm around me loosely and tugging me along. Like I was some damn trophy wife or something. … W-which I'm not even close to, dammit! I'm no trophy, and hell if I'm feminine!

"Hey, Mr. Awesome. Haven't heard yet, I assume—Romeo here's under Turkish rule now," he explained smugly.

… The bastard.

Of course, he completely ignored my murderous glare (it would have put him six feet under if he'd just looked, I swear!), and Prussia (that damn albino potato sucker…) seemed only more amused by it.

"Well, well, is that so…?" He asked, chuckling his weird laugh. "Kesesesese~! … I might have to bring Alice with me next time, then. I don't know why, but she's been wanting to see the un-awesome little tomato-face."

You can imagine my response. However, I might as well put it down for you to enjoy.

"Don't call me that, kraut-breath!" I snarled at him, since, as you may know, ninety percent of my hostility is saved for Germany, and that includes his annoying older brother.

"Oh, Bahar? Ah, I had heard the two of you have been together a lot recently," Turkey responded loudly, overriding my shout.

And then it sunk in, because sometimes (ok, all the time), when I'm angry, even obvious things take a while to process.

Alice.

I only knew one Alice. Belgium.

Belgium…

My face flushed a hot red just thinking about her. Ok, ok, I'll admit it, at the time I still retained a _tiny_ crush on her… But most of my blush was embarrassment, stemmed from the fact that, as a child, I'd asked her to kiss me.

And, in case any of you jerks was wondering, no, it didn't pan out. I… I got too shy and ran off. I'll admit that, at least. But remember, I was still just a child, and she was a very beautiful young woman at the time.

Why it was that Alice, specifically, gave me butterflies and made me stutter and act like a moron, or more of a moron than I was on a regular basis (because, since it's just you and not someone who I hate, I can admit that too), I don't know. What was it that made Alice different than all of the other women that, thanks to the family charm, I found it quite simple to flirt with, even as a pouting, chubby-cheeked little boy?

Well, it turns out that in my musing I'd dazed off a bit, and when I 'came to' or so, I'd missed the pleasant chatting that goes with greetings. And now both Turkey and the albino kraut formally known as Prussia were looking down at me amusedly.

My eye twitched erratically. Hell no. These guys were _not_ giving me the look.

You know the one. The look that people give you when you've just done something stupid and embarrassing, and they feel, as people 'above' you, like maybe, maybe they shouldn't laugh. But hell do they want to.

And I admit, Turkey can be scary as fuck, and I was kind of stuck with him until I either escaped or Spain saved me. But Prussia was nothing to me. And hell if I was going to let that guy give me the look, muffling his laughter badly, and get away with it.

"What's so funny, asshole?" I demanded, shoving a finger into his arrogant chest.

And the look dissolved like a snowball in a greenhouse. A snowball in a greenhouse in _hell_.

Suddenly, a pale hand was gripping the front of my shirt, and I was in much closer proximity to Prussia than I ever have been or ever want to be again. I could make out five different shades of red in his eyes, and they all looked like my blood splattered on the floor.

Merda.

I never knew the guy could be so terrifying. Well, it does make sense. To have lived so long without ever having to submit to or marry another country… Just fighting all the time. But honestly he always seemed like such an arrogant prick that I forgot that he had always been pretty dangerous as well.

"Do you want to repeat that to me, Romano…?" Prussia growled, voice low and terrifying.

No.

No I did not want to repeat that to him.

And then something amazing happened.

"… Let go of him."

And that wasn't my voice. It wasn't Prussia's.

It was Turkey.

Prussia looked up at him, astonished (for he had bent down a ways to come face-to-face with me so closely). I turned my head to get a look at the masked nation and see if he was really serious.

He was.

"I swear, Prussia, if you don't let go of him, I'm going to hurt ya."

Well, even if the two of them seemed to get along ok, I knew Prussia wasn't going to stand for that. When he let go of me to straighten up and leer at Turkey, I backed away from the fight fast.

"You think so, do you, Turkey?" Prussia demanded. "The awesome me would never lose in a fight to you! And if you're really so worked up over your little unawesome captive here, bring it on!"

Turkey's glare sharpened, and before he could say another word, Prussia was laid out flat from a right hook to the jaw. I swallowed thickly, taking another step back from the two of them. And then, putting a hand briefly to his chin, Prussia kicked out and sent Turkey tumbling onto the floor with him.

I'll admit it. I hid behind the couch.

… You would have too.

The two wrestled on the floor for a few minutes, punching, kicking and who knows what the hell else. At last, however, it seemed that, luckily for me, Turkey got the upper hand. He lunged to his feet, a strong grip on the front of Prussia's shirt, and tossed him out a window.

No. You read that right.

He picked him up like a ragdoll and threw him out a fucking window.

I'm sure I looked like a complete moron, gaping the way I had to be. Turkey, at least, seemed amused. Bastard. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and smirked a little.

"Told ya I'd protect ya, Romeo. I keep my promises."

… Yeah.

No fucking kidding he does.

Merda.


	6. Wherefore Art Thou, Prison Bars?

**A/N: Chapter five!**

**If you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! However, we will soon be moving to World Hetalia High, a site of the same nature also headed by Alice! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

I have to tell you something now, before you proceed any further with reading. Now, you might question what happens next in my tale, and wonder at my actions… So I'll have to take careful measures to explain myself properly. Otherwise, you won't be able to understand.

I thought Turkey was insane. To me, it almost felt as if he was trying to mentor me. Trying to mentor a splintered, younger man who had lost all faith in the world, let alone in authority figures. I swore to myself that the guy was in way over his head. That I wouldn't give in and listen to him, no matter how nicely he acted, no matter how much he thought he was going to be able to 'reform' me, to teach me manners and respect or whatever.

However, as is the norm for me when it comes to Turkey, I would come to be proven magnificently wrong. That, however, I'm almost proud to say, took some time to do, and so I won't be getting to it quite so soon.

In any case…

I did not thank him. I didn't even give him a kind look for saving my ass from Prussia. No, I glared. Glared my hardest, like I do when I see my fratello walking with that macho scumbag Germany. Like I do when I think about…. Certain things. (Now, I'll bet you're curious about those, but… You'll probably find out by the end anyway, so don't bother bitching to me about it now, since I don't feel like disclosing it and having to go into it right at this moment. Suffice it to say that it's a family issue, and it will be brought up at a later time, or more like a time when I absolutely have to explain it to you otherwise my story will make no sense.)

Now, that torqued him off a bit. But he knew to expect my bad temper, at least a little.

"No need for that look, Romeo. I did just save ya, after all," he smirked.

"Shut up, bastard! I would have been fine on my own!" I growled, because I wasn't going to let him make me admit that I most certainly could _not_ have handled myself in a fight like that against Prussia.

An arm lashed out and my wrist was in his bruising grip again.

"I told ya I would protect you, no matter what. Since you're under my rule now," he asserted. "Now, wouldn't you rather be here than splattered across the floor after a fight with Mr. Awesome, there?"

I tried to tug away my arm, but couldn't quite manage it.

"What do you know? I would have beaten his sorry albino ass, you Turkish bastard!"

And with that, I made yet another in my long list of mistakes. I hit his arm to try and get him to let go of my other wrist. Turkey's green eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"I'm being pretty lenient with ya, Romeo, but I can put you in a cell if that's really what you want!" he threatened lowly, pulling me closer by the arm to breathe the threat right into my face.

My response was immediate.

"I'd rather be anywhere but here!" I shouted at him, still struggling. "I'd rather be anywhere but close to you! Even in a dungeon!"

"That can be arranged!" the masked nation practically roared, shifting his grip to my other arm and frog-marching me towards a set of basement stairs I hadn't noticed before.

I must say… Well… I didn't really believe him when he'd said that. I was sorely mistaken—turns out Turkey does have a fully-functional (fully non-functional…? How should one address an ancient, filthy, molding dungeon that still works?) prison in his basement.

Not that I was going to back out of what I'd said just because the threat was real. I wasn't gonna show any weakness to that Turkish bastard, no way!

His temper was still boiling over at the time, so I was quite literally tossed into a cell, and then the door to it was slammed closed and locked.

For the first few seconds, I was seeing too much red to feel or think anything. But after that, I felt the ache in my back from hitting the wall (an impact that may well have killed a normal human being), and the scrapes on my arms from the uneven, rocky flooring of the dungeon.

I stewed for a few minutes, nursing my injuries… But soon enough, I was feeling the eerie sense of loneliness creeping up on me. I didn't like being alone down here, on the damp floor of a musty cell so very far from home. It made me think of how long it'd been since I'd seen my brother. It made me think of Spain.

It made me think of what would happen to me down here, all alone, if Spain never realized I was gone.

That especially was something I had attempted not to dwell on up to that point, but stuck alone with my thoughts in the cell, it was all I could ponder as I ran my hands along the bars of the cell door.

I'll interject that I believe that this was the moment that I decided that no matter what I would get out. Even if it had to be an escape plan of my own invention. I was not going to wait for Spain if there was even the slightest chance that he wouldn't come.

In any case… I'm not sure how long it was that I was down there.

I'm not even sure, to this day, why it was that Turkey came back down. But he did, and then there he was standing just across from me, the two of us separated only by a barred doorway. I was defensive, not sure what it was that he wanted, with coming back down here.

To gloat?

To hit me?

But then he let out a large sigh and unlocked the door, holding out his hand to me. And, although incredibly skeptical, I took it. It was better than an iron grip around my bicep or my wrist, by far… And after actually being thrown in the dungeon, I was not inclined to be particularly argumentative, if it got me out of the grimy place and back up to somewhere that sunlight didn't seem like a myth.

"… Look, Romeo," Turkey sighed at last, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, which I had noticed was somewhat of a habit for him, "it doesn't have to be like this."

I realized that, no, it really didn't, he was right… But I didn't want to risk actually getting used to being under someone's rule again. Heaven forbid that happen, because I would be losing a part of myself, losing my freedom.

So, no matter what Turkey said or did, I had to stay unsatisfied without my freedom. I could not get complacent.

I looked away sharply as we walked up the stairs back to the civilized part of the house, and did not meet his eyes.


	7. Wherefore Art Thou, Blushes?

**A/N: Chapter six! This one's really long, and it's only half of the content I planned to fit into this chapter… So… I'm learning to expand my descriptions better, I guess…?**

**If you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! However, we will soon be moving to World Hetalia High, a site of the same nature also headed by Alice! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**Edited thanks to the power of reviewers (Your humble entertainer is listening, folks... Corrections can be made!), or rather just one: Ninja Lady Jae. And I learned something new in the process!**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

It was the next day when something finally happened, and an opportunity for escape presented itself quite neatly to me. A perfect chance, you might say. Well, not perfect, as you will see, considering the fact that (as most of you can guess) I did not manage to escape successfully. I can account this to a lot of things, between Turkey's stubbornness and my own unfortunate predisposition to messing up even the simplest of plans.

Not that my particular method of escape required much planning, or even any at all.

However, it took a while to get to that point, and a significant amount of embarrassment, so I doubt you'll be hearing about my escape this time.

I suppose I should explain.

The next morning, I was able to get up myself and not be woken by the slam of a door. I shuffled down to the first floor compliantly, because in the morning I can actually be a decent person. I don't have the energy for a temper, then.

I grabbed something to eat from the kitchen, no idea what, maybe a fruit or something, and poured myself a cup of black tea from the stuff Turkey had apparently already brewed for himself. Well, he was sitting there at the table and didn't complain or anything; and I would have told him to fuck off anyway if he'd complained about me stealing some of it, though I prefer coffee to wake myself up in the morning. Need my damn caffeine... And tea, no matter the kind always reminded me of that bastard England.

In any case, it was a quiet, dare I say almost enjoyable morning. Not that I would admit it to Turkey. Because who needed another thing for the bastard to try and tell me how much better it was to live with him? Then, as he was on his second cup of tea (at least that I'd been there for) and I was tracing my fingers along the rim of my empty glass, there was a knock at the door.

Thankfully, it was not a loud, annoying, obnoxious knock like the previous day. It was a firmly audible knock, and it roused me from my still slightly sleepy daze. I still didn't offer to get the door. Turkey sighed, stretching as he stood from the table, and went to open the front door.

"Good morning, Turkey!"

"Morning, Bahar. What brings you here…?"

My ears perked up. Bahar… That's what he'd called Alice the other day. I crept out into the doorway of the kitchen and peered out. Yup. It was Alice alright.

The cheery smile and wavy hair held back with a headband gave it away quickly. And then she spotted me peeking out of the doorway and waved over Turkey's shoulder.

"Lovi~ Hi!" she called happily, waving.

I flushed hard and backed further into the kitchen, giving her a an almost imperceptible wave with the fingers of my left hand. She giggled, walking past Turkey at a skip, and, unfortunately, was quick enough to grab my arm before I could completely retreat into the kitchen.

"U-uh… Alice…" I stammered, embarrassed and crimson already. "H-h-h-hi…"

And I could see out of the corner of my eye that that masked bastard was grinning. Smirking, probably thinking it amusing how flustered and shy I was being, when he was so used to my useless-but-loud blustering and grumpy attitude. I wanted to punch him. So badly.

But I couldn't. Not with Alice watching… There was no way…! I just couldn't.

So the most I could do was give him another one of my death glares and then refocus attention onto Alice as she slung an arm around my shoulder.

"Ah, Lovi, I haven't seen you in so long!" Alice cheered, turning the light grip around my shoulder into a full-blown hug. "The last time we really saw each other was when we were still both with Spain!"

I almost choked at the reminder. Again, with one of my most embarrassing memories… Asking her for a kiss like that… Any other woman and it wouldn't have been a big deal at all. But Belgium… I was probably so dark with a blush that I looked maroon.

And then she just had to…

Well, she put a finger to her chin and looked as if she was thinking. And then she started talking again, giving me a little wink.

"Ah, that's right, Lovi, I never gave you that kiss I promised!" Alice giggled, and I swear I almost died.

I was even too embarrassed at that point to notice Turkey, who was probably laughing his ass off like a huge jerk… Not that it wasn't something that probably deserved to be laughed at… Because I'll admit it was damn pathetic, freaking out over a little kiss like that.

And it was as I was still blank-minded and frazzled that Belgium leaned in and placed her lips on my cheek. My face was, I'm so sure now, almost literally on fire. I was bright red… A damn tomato, just like Spain always said.

And then when I was finally able to focus on the world around me, there was Turkey giving that smug little chuckle. The one that activated my defensiveness faster than almost anything else I've ever experienced.

"Heh, look at him, he's blushing!"

And since Alice had detached herself from me by that time, I was able to properly channel my anger.

"I-I am not!" I snarled, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Yeah, you are…" he argued, stepping forward and leaning in, as if to get a closer look and prove his point.

My heart jumped, surprised at the distance, or, more accurately, lack thereof, between his face and mine. I tried to glare, but it was surely offset by my jumpiness as I stumbled back, startled. Biting my lip, I held out my arms straight in front of me, to put a barrier of distance between us.

"H-hey, stand back, j-jeez!" I demanded, still leaning back a bit in case I needed to retreat further.

And then he was outright laughing at me, and holy hell in that moment I knew why it was that even just thinking about that laughter was what set Greece off. Just the fact that this arrogant guy had the nerve to find me amusing…! Agh, I wanted to die! … Or kill him, preferably, actually.

"Y-your reactions…" he chuckled, trying to catch his breath.

I snapped. Which, of course, is a phrase you've heard from me plenty of times already throughout this tale, and will hear plenty of times further along. It seems to be a hobby of mine, losing my temper.

In any case…

"Stop laughing at me, you Turkish bastard!"

The laughter stopped. One point for me. … But oh, it was still not a good thing. Because now he was looking down at me, expression a little dark, and taking a step forward threateningly.

"… Eh? What was that?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow just slightly.

That just made me angrier, somehow. He knew damn well what I'd said to him!

"I said stop it! Are you deaf or something, _old man_?" I retorted, throwing at him the one barb he could not ignore.

It was what Greece always called him. The way they addressed each other every time… "Old man", "brat"… It was pretty well-known. So if you wanted to rile one… Just call him the way the other did. And the only way to get back at Turkey in that moment, it seemed to me, was to address him in that manner.

And it showed in his response, that he'd unconsciously flashed to his arguments with Greece.

"Nah, I can hear just fine! Brat!" he answered loudly, scowling.

But there was one thing that changed the situation. One thing that immediately changed the nature of the argument and made me lose my proverbial footing.

He reached out and tugged on my curl.

"Ch-ch-chigiiii!" I yelped, as was usual when someone made the horrible decision to pull on my curl.

After all… Oh, well… I guess I'm assuming all of you know what it is that's special about my curl. But maybe you don't know. My brother and I each have a curl that is… To put it in a more scientific term, and erogenous zone. In other words, by some incredibly idiotic mistake of nature, that curl is hotwired to the nerves between my legs. … Yup. No joke.

I personally blame Nonno Rome.

Anyway, now that that has all been explained…

You understand my reaction, yes?

My face, which had gone back to a normal temperature during the beginning of my argument with Turkey, flushed back to a cherry-red, and even when trying to concentrate fully on shouting, I still couldn't help but stammer.

"L-l-let g-go!" I responded, and, much to my chagrin, there was a slight, keening whine to my tone.

"I don't think I will," he said, almost teasingly, green eyes flashing from behind his mask with an emotion I couldn't quite identify. "You seem to be enjoying it…"

And if you're wondering what exactly Alice was doing at that moment, don't worry, you're not alone. I was wondering that too at the time. When I managed to get a glance at her out of the corner of my eye, she was frozen with that look people get on their face when they've just seen or heard something they find utterly adorable.

"Awwww, Lovi made a cute noise!" she cooed at last, eyes starry.

Turkey through her an odd look before blinking a few times and nodding.

"Heh… Yeah, he did…"

Well, it was quite obvious at that point that Alice was going to be absolutely less than no help. Not that I could hold it against her. Besides being… Well, herself, which kind of exempted her form my anger in the first place, I was sure Alice had no idea what the curl actually did. Turkey, however, seemed to know exactly what the hell he was doing, and that made it all the more humiliating.

And so… Like the damn sucker I am…

"D-d-dammit, Spain, where are you?" I muttered weakly, still with that tiny, embarrassing hint of a moan.

"Sorry, Romeo, he won't be here anytime soon," Turkey mocked.

My fists clenched. He was mocking me, because he knew… He knew I knew that I needed Spain to truly escape. That I was too weak to do it on my own… Too damn weak.

"F-fuckin' bastard!" I growled, eyes narrowing darkly.

But still, he did not take me seriously. Well… I wouldn't take myself seriously, all red-faced and breathing heavily like I was.

"Adorable," he chuckled, and I was too frazzled to try and figure out if he really meant it or if he was making fun of me again.

But at last he sighed, shrugging.

"But, since you don't want the attention…"

And he let go. My legs collapsed from under me and I hit the floor. I panted heavily, trying to compose myself in a timely manner. It wasn't working.

"Dammit…" I muttered, glaring at the floor as I struggled to get up. "I-it's always me… Dammit…"

And of course the bastard just watched me, amused, smirking that damn arrogant smirk.

"Ha!"

He laughed just the once, sharply, and my glare redirected to meet his eyes.

"Asshole…"

I was trembling, in anger now… And I didn't even register that it was her touch as Alice helped me stand.

"Eh, you'll get over it!" he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

And then all hell broke loose.


	8. Wherefore Art Thou, Failed Escape?

**A/N: Chapter seven! The one that was originally supposed to be the second half of chapter six!**

**If you like Hetalia, go to 'World Paradise Hetalia' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! However, we will soon be moving to 'World Hetalia High', a site of the same nature also headed by Alice! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

I must say, looking back, that I left you with something akin to a cliffhanger. It wasn't exactly what I intended to do, but unless I wanted to continue on forever, that was the most fitting place to end.

Now, when I said 'and then all hell broke loose', some of you might have assumed I lost my temper (again). And while that's an unfortunately legitimate guess, such is not the case.

When I say 'all hell broke loose', the image that caused me to describe it in that particular way was something like this…

The door, which had probably been closed by Turkey while Alice was busy flustering me, shuddered and fell in with a bang. Alice shrieked in surprise, and Turkey whirled towards the door, tensed in a way that immediately said he was ready for a fight. I just gaped, having been facing in the proper direction all along.

Standing in the doorway, red eyes bright like a demon, was Prussia. I would normally be shocked at how moronic he was, coming back after having his albino ass handed to him only the day before. But the expression on his face was wild and his eyes were burning, and I wasn't so sure he couldn't win.

I grabbed Alice and fled to a corner of the room. Take note here that, once again, I was too distracted to be flustered by our close contact, which is good because it would have only made things weirder.

In any case, the fighting was, if possible, even more violent than the day before. Neither man had a blade or what would normally constitute as a weapon (thank goodness, because I might have died just watching if they had), but they did not neglect to make use of many of the blunt objects around Turkey's home. Like chairs and lamps and pans.

And it was probably a good thing for me (although you'll see how much good it really did me in the end) that the fight dragged on so long. Because it took me… I'll just put it in the range of 'too long', to realize that it was the perfect time to escape.

Turkey was distracted—so much so that he probably wouldn't notice I was gone for… Well, a long time, I hoped.

So, after walking out the door, I hitchhiked my way to the coast, snagged a one-man sailing skiff, and sailed my way to my own coast.

Now, understand, this is an incredibly long trip—however, for my purposes I'm glossing over it because it wasn't very exciting and adds absolutely nothing to my story whatsoever. In fact, I'm really only explaining this to you in case there's anyone as moronic as my brother who might think I can just magically hop from one area to another across the globe.

Because however useful that would be (_yes_, for running away, shut _up_) it's simply not possible.

In any case… At a later time, Alice filled me in on what exactly happened after I left, so I guess I might as well tell you.

The two continued to fight for about another fifteen or twenty minutes. In the end, Turkey won (of course, it's like the guy can't lose a fight or something for once in his life, jeez…). And then he started looking around the room, only to find Alice all by herself in the corner of the room.

Then, according to Alice, he let out a long string of 'damn's, mumbled something about his boss killing him, and ran out the door.

"I hope he gets away, you prick!" Prussia shouted after him, and had I been there, I might have thanked him for his sentiments.

Well, they were mostly sentiments for Turkey to be troubled, but… They worked out in my favor, right? I guess. It's probably the only time that albino potato bastard has wished for something to turn out in my favor, and I wasn't even there to witness it. A damn shame.

In any case… He took approximately the same route as I had, and so wasn't exactly all that far behind me. Like I said, fifteen or twenty minutes. It wasn't much at all. He was soon at my door.

Now… You remember that shitty children's story about the three pigs and the wolf and building houses out of different stuff? Keep that story in mind.

"Open the door, Romeo!" he snarled loudly, pounding on it with a fist.

And I swear, looking back now, all I can hear is that damn wolf going 'little pig, little pig, let me come in'. And hell if I was gonna be some dumbass pig who built his house out of straw or sticks— no way! I'd locked all the doors and windows and put the security system basically in lockdown (if you're wondering, countries get all kinds of fancy protection shit—considering without us, the country itself (that is to say, the governing body, all organization in the entire country) goes 'ciao'.).

But just like I'm not some pig, Turkey wasn't just some dumbass big bad wolf, either. And only seconds after I'd shouted at him that there was no way he could break in all by himself…

He kicked down the door.

Seriously, he just lifted his right leg and kicked the damn door in. With just his foot! Well, and his boot, but it's not like the boot did much to help.

And the sight of him standing in the doorway, towering, basically, eyes flashing and posed like a bull about to charge… I was mercifully able to pick up my feet and run. I turned tail and fled, before skidding to a stop in the kitchen and hiding haphazardly in a mostly-empty pantry cupboard.

Yes, I fit in a pantry, shut your face, bastards.

"Hide all you want, I will find you!" he spat, storming into the kitchen.

I covered my mouth with my hands, and tried to slow my heart. One by one, I could hear the cupboards open with a bang, and I started to shake. It was just as terrifying as when he had first captured me. These events… Well, to be honest, there's a reason I've never liked hide-and-seek, you understand? Being chased, even in a game, reminds me too much of that time in my childhood. The time when Turkey had been the Ottoman Empire, when he towered over me and seemed like he was taller even than the trees.

And then the door to my cupboard was open, and he grabbed my wrist, painfully tight, and dragged me out into the open. I felt exposed, I felt small again… I hated it. I hated him. I hated him so much…

"What the hell is your deal?"

And I nearly gaped at him, asking such a stupid, moronic, idiotic question.

"I don't like being kidnapped, I don't know!" I shouted, enraged that he should be angry at me for doing what was only natural. "What's _your_ deal?"

"Your personality! That's what! Dammit!" he snapped back, expression dark.

And as I trembled in anger, his eyes went glazed, and he was thinking and remembering and then he was holding me and I wanted it to stop.

"... Sorry, alright," he said at last, voice softer, almost, if I didn't know better, tender. "I know you hate me to death. But... I can't let ya go. Not without a fight. I wish you would understand that..."

And he said it so kindly, but the words only flared my anger, and I hated him more for using that soft tone when saying something so infuriating. I looked away from him angrily, not able to stand the sight of those green eyes filled with emotion.

"No! No I don't understand!" I choked out angrily. "I don't understand why the hell everyone else thinks it's ok to try and take my land over like I'm not even there! Ok?"

And then I paused, and for some unknown, idiotic reason, I let my inferiority complex show, like the idiot I am. Giving him a weak point like that to exploit… But I couldn't stop myself from saying it.

"A-and it's always me! Even though everyone likes Veneciano better!"

He pulled back a bit and looked down at me, surprised, but I did not meet his gaze.

"Eh?" he questioned, blinking. "Well, I don't."

He rolled his eyes, sighing.

"To tell the truth, I do not understand the guy one damn bit. Reason why I chose you is because I understand you more. You may be a bit more trouble... But... I still like you more, I guess. Why do you think I chose you over him?"

And he wasn't making any sense. So what if he didn't understand Veneciano…? No one else seemed to let that stop them from liking him better… But he sounded so earnest, and…

"I-I don't know…" I stammered in return, feeling almost foolish after his rather frank admissions. "Everyone just seems to think we're the same, since we're both Italy, and they always kidnap me... Or take over, or whatever. Austria, Spain, France…"

I paused, voice quieting, almost afraid of what his reaction would be.

"… And you."

And despite my fears, despite my numerous encounters with his rather fearsome temper… Turkey simply smiled.

"Tch. I don't think that. Like I said, I understand you way more... But I am not trying to kidnap you. I'm simply trying to protect you from people like them. I promised you after all, right?" he explained.

Not trying to kidnap me… Was that so…? Was that what he called breaking my door in, chasing me across the continent… I just didn't understand him. Turkey, of everyone I'd ever met… He made absolutely no sense to me. I couldn't rationalize it as idiocy… Because it was clear he wasn't stupid. But all the same… There was just something…

"I know I'm not like Spain but, uh..."

And somehow, the way he said it made me flush a little. Even with everything else… He still seemed to want to meet me halfway… But I was going to be stubborn! I was… Just as usual. Because I wouldn't let him in, I vowed to myself. I didn't like letting anyone into my heart, girly as that turn of phrase sounds.

But he was continuing to speak anyway.

"I don't know…" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I guess all I can say is that I am going to stick to what I said before."

And like the fool I am, I felt the need to try and console him. For some reason. Although I tried not to think of it that way at the time. I wasn't… Consoling him, I was… Being diplomatic. Or something. Shut up, I know it's a weak excuse…

"… Look," I muttered, sighing. "I can kind of understand…"

No I couldn't. I couldn't understand it at all.

"But it doesn't matter who it is, ok? I was finally on my own, in charge of myself… And now I'm right back where I started!"

And I hoped he could understand what I was trying to say the way I couldn't understand him. At least a little. Which is dumb, because I didn't want to make a connection with him… But I thought maybe if he understood, he'd let me go. … Fat chance.

"I'm not gonna boss you around that much. Don't give a damn what you do to your country… Just, if you make major choices, you'd have to come to me. You're not under my control too much."

He wasn't getting it… Talking so condescendingly to me… As if what he was doing wasn't so bad!

"... You say things like that... But... That's not how you act, most of the time, anyway!" I argued.

He scoffed.

"Well excuse me for wanting you to stay safe!"

I scowled, staring pointedly to the side and turning that sentence over in my mind. He was doing it again… Trying to be a mentor, trying to get my respect… Treating me like a damn child!

"Veneciano and I have been keeping ourselves safe for long enough without anyone's help, let alone yours!" I bit back spitefully.

And then, my voice went soft again like I hated it to do.

"… I'm tired of being chased down all the time."

I was expecting another scoff, a laugh, anything. But it didn't happen. Again and again, I tried to place Turkey in the mold of a villain, and again and again he kept disproving me.

"Well, I'm not giving up on you!"

I didn't believe him, but that was a matter of principle. I didn't believe in anyone.

"… We'll see," I retorted skeptically.

His eyes flared with a challenging spark.

"Yeah, we will, huh? And just you wait. When you need my help, I will always be there. Whether you like it or not!"

And I was so angry… So angry and upset and I just wanted to cry and I felt so safe in his arms. That just made it worse. Especially when he said things like that to me. Experience told me it was all lies… But Turkey was not one to lie, especially not to make someone feel better. He wasn't one to offer comfort, and maybe that's why it was all the more comforting.

I was getting attached, although I tried my hardest not to realize it.

"… D-don't think I'll be calling for you, bastard!"

"You don't have to."

And it almost seemed like we'd made something of a connection, between arguments and pain and a stubbornness we both shared. … Not that I'd ever admit it in a million years.


	9. Wherefore Art Thou, Conscience?

**A/N: Chapter eight, and I've slowed down my updating considerably… And this one's shorter. Well, my inspiration (aka Turkey) is MIA, so I have no new fluff to encourage me to finish this story…**

**If you like Hetalia, go to 'World Hetalia High' and ask for Alice~ she's the leader, and she'll make sure you get a character to RP! We're still looking for lots of countries, so please join us! (Tell them Romano sent you~)**

**Ok, hopefully everyone (and my anonymous reviwer) reads this; World Paradise Hetalia has been deleted by Alice, the boss. We moved to 'World Hetalia High' a while ago; I know doesn't accept full links, but to get there go to .com.**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

Turkey and I were silent for a few moments, but as usual, I couldn't just let things end on a note like that, one that implied we had begun to build a connection of some sort between us. So I launched another verbal barb, as I am often wont to do.

"You know I'm just going to cause you trouble," I pointed out, rolling my eyes. "You'll get sick of it after a while."

Everyone did.

"Tch, please!" he scoffed back, giving me that skeptical look that I hated. "I've been through worse!"

And though it isn't in my nature to bring up dangerous subjects, his disbelief had me fuming. Besides, my fleeing instincts (y-yeah, I have those, so what?) informed me I was less than five feet from my stairs, and the door to my bedroom. Let me now be the one to inform you I have even more security on my personal room than the rest of the house combined. … Well… Y-you can never be too careful with the mafia (stupid evil muffins…!) prowling around!

"Have you," I demanded icily. "Because I can be worse than Greece was."

But he didn't get mad, like I expected. Maybe he was getting used to my attitude, more than I'd thought… And that was a very scary idea, to me. He just waved his hand like my comment was a fly he was shooing away. W-which… Yeah, dammit (since you're not anyone I don't want to admit things to…), I'll admit, it was kind of a petty comment anyway… B-but still…!

"Psh, as if. That cat-sniffer wasn't even that much trouble anyway, he's just annoying as hell! If I could deal with that idiot, you won't be so bad," he responded surely.

And my inferiority complex reared its ugly head again.

"H-hmph. Maybe I'm the weakest, to some people…" I admitted, not meeting his gaze. "B-but I'm the most stubborn of anyone. Even you!"

He smirked for a few seconds, skeptical of me as always… But then his features dropped into an expression that was gentler, almost sad. It was… Weird for me to see. I didn't like it.

"... I won't force you to come back to my house. You could stay here if you want. It's your choice; just expect me to check in on you alright...?"

I hated how he could sound so sincere, so caring about it. I hated the way my heart tugged a little bit. Luckily for me, my heart and my mouth always seem to be on different tracks. Although that would cause me a considerable amount of trouble down the line…

"… Like I would go back after all this," I sneered, still not able to meet Turkey's green eyes.

A-and it wasn't because I was lying or anything… O-or that I f-felt bad… B-because I definitely didn't! At all…!

"Fine," he relented with a sigh. "It's your choice. I'm sure my boss won't mind either."

That, too, was a relief. After such an ordeal, it was like a breath of fresh air to receive a choice in something. I was going to milk this opportunity for all it was worth. And then go find out why the hell Spain hadn't saved me yet.

Stupid tomato bastard.

"A-and… Let me know whenever you're going off somewhere, just in case… Or something…"

My brain clunked miserably to a screeching halt. He'd stammered. The fucker had just _stammered_! And then he realized, almost the same time I did, that his arms were still around me. My face lit up like a firework on that idiot America's birthday. Turkey cleared his throat and pulled away quickly, and perhaps I was just fooling myself, but I was sure there was a hint of pink in his face.

"Just, uh… Go do whatever…" he said, in a vain attempt to sound stern. "I'm going home."

And then without any further argument, he turned and began to walk away. That was it? That… That was all? No more yelling, no more teasing, no more forcing me to come back with him? He was just… Giving up? Just a sigh and he was already almost gone.

There was… Admittedly there was a part of me that wanted to run after him. The stupid part. But… It was true that I hated seeing peoples' backs… I hated having people walk away from me. Because that's what people always did. A-all the same… Something like pride or common sense held me in my place. I wouldn't go after him. I shouldn't.

I tried to train my eyes on anything but how he was walking away from me. … But then he stopped. I waited for it, nervously, anxiously. He'd say it, just like everyone else did. That my brother was better, or that I didn't need to worry about him coming back to visit. You didn't need to visit another country to rule over them…

But he didn't say any of that.

"By the way..." he started quietly, locking his eyes with mine so I couldn't look away. "I will do my best. To meet eye to eye with you. I will try to be better than Spain to your eyes. I just hope I can. After all, I do think I am really starting to care for ya Romeo."

It was the strangest, sweetest, most awful, wonderful, amazing, heart-lifting thing I had ever heard. And that lifted heart seemed to tug me forward, and I stumbled to his side, looking at my shoes and feeling incredibly manipulated.

"D-don't say stupid things like that…"

My cheeks were burning, and no matter what I tried to think of to distract me, they only seemed to light up a brighter shade of red. Someone had actually said something like that to me… To _me_! S-so maybe it seems dumb to you, b-but… Sh-shut up, it was pretty-… Pretty _special_ to _me_…

And… And for it to be Turkey… I was sure he'd never really said something like that, at least aloud…

And… And maybe I grabbed his sleeve. S-so what!

I… I wasn't acting like a shy girl, dammit, no matter what anyone would say…! I just… Uh… I just wanted to make sure that Turkish bastard was looking me in the eye! Y-yeah…

"I…"

I was biting my lip as I gave up my freedom once again. Like a moron. Again. You'd think one day I'd learn to stop falling for associating on kind of generally good terms with former empires.

"I'll come back…"

He was silent, staring down at me with wide eyes, and I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest and starting to stomp off towards the coast. S-stupid bastard, giving me that surprised look that w-wasn't cute at all dammit…!

"W-well, come on, d-dammit…! I-if we're going back we better hurry up. You don't want those two in your house for too long. You know, unsupervised," I added, turning back to glare at Turkey impatiently.

N-not that I wanted to get back to that guy's house or anything! M-mine's much better.

As I turned around again and started to walk, he strolled up to me, somehow matching my angry pace, and placed a hand on top of my head. … S-stupid…

"I'm glad," he said at last, softly. "That you came to my side. At least for a while, right?"

I flushed, shoving his arm away from me and folding my arms across my chest, trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my ribcage. … J-jeez, that guy… Thought he was so smooth… A-and even if he was, s-still…! I was w-way above his charms! D-definitely!

And so… In my usual fashion… With nothing logical to counter him, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't count on this for much longer…" I grumped, scowling. "I-I just felt bad that you were acting so mushy…!"

He laughed. … Bastard.

"Yeah, yeah, come on," he chuckled, ruffling my hair a bit (jerk…).

So we headed back to his house together.


	10. Wherefore Art Thou, Rivalry?

**A/N: I realize I've been gone… Eons. Well, the fairytale story is getting nigh on 300 reviews, and there are tons of requests, but… A sense of nostalgia sent me back to this story. Since I don't foresee my Turkey ever returning from wherever he disappeared to… I thought I may as well get some closure somehow. So, here we go.**

**Alice deleted her site, so I'm really sorry to everyone asking for directions…**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

I don't know about you, but I know one thing about Turkey and Greece.

Those two HATE each other.

Irrationally. More than Spagna hates that eyebrows bastard for destroying his armada. Yeah, I know about that; stupid tomato bastard tried to hide it, but if you sob about it into your pillow, you're not doing a very good job of hiding it. … Th-that's not… The reason that I tried to make breakfast for him the next morning, though. I just… I got bored. And hungry.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with this. Greece and Turkey.

Well, normally I don't give half a shit what those two think of each other, but it kind of became my problem when Turkey and I made it back to his place. Since… Greece was there. Yeah, I know, weird, right? I guess Alice had called him up to help with Prussia's injuries. From being thrown out a window. … You know, in case you forgot that part between the big bad wolf analogies and me throwing away my last scrap of dignity because a former empire decided to pout.

Anyway, the second we walked in the door, Turkey stopped to posture stupidly, pointing at Greece.

"What is that cat-sniffer doing here?" he demanded.

And then something occurred to me. While I had—begrudgingly of course!— returned with Turkey, that didn't mean I was fine with still being under his control or anything! And Greece could be some help in that…

I can be pretty devious when I want to be! So there!

A-anyway… Before anyone could really do anything, Turkey had rushed over and grabbed Greece by the collar. … He was… P-pretty strong, really…

"What, come to ruin everything, you bastard?"

But Greece just kind of looked at him sleepily. Well, how else does that guy ever look at things, I guess. Lazy bastard. … But if he was here to help me or something, that would be great.

"You're so… Rash… Turkey…!" Greece yelled sleepily.

Yeah. You read that right. I don't know how someone can yell in such a lazy, tired voice, but hey if anyone can manage that, you bet Greece is your man. All in all, it was a weird-looking scene, but I've been assured by Japan it's a fairly regular one for them. But I wasn't particularly concerned with the argument itself, as long as Greece could get me the hell out of there.

"More like annoyed!" Turkey responded, gritting his teeth. "Just hearing your name pisses me off!"

I wasn't particularly surprised at that, I suppose.

"… That's childish…"

"Yeah, well go to hell!"

The argument didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, which is saying something coming from me. … Yes, I am aware how unusually futile my attempts to argue with Germany are, shut up. But these guys were waaay worse than me! A-anyway, I figured it was time to step in.

"And you said he didn't bother you. I can see you handle your problems very well, Turkey."

What? I didn't say I would step in nicely.

However, neither of them seemed to pay attention to me. Seriously, did I suddenly become Canada or something? What the hell? Since no one was paying attention to me, I zoned out for a little bit. What, it's not like their argument was all that interesting. I mean really.

"Turkey… Needs to act his age…"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't go… Picking fights… With ex-countries.. Like… Prussia.."

"At least I can fight! All you're good at is sleeping!"

"Sleeping… Isn't… A crime…"

I mean really. And people treat _me_ like a kid. These guys were duking it out when I was still wearing a maid dress! … Ok, shut up you didn't hear that. I never wore a dress. No mental images or I will scratch your eyes out. … A-anyway! You'd think they'd have calmed down by now!

Now then… It's a bad habit I have to pontificate aloud. That is… When I'm thinking about something, I just have to mumble it to myself or it doesn't make sense in my brain, you know? I had been thinking that maybe I could slip out the door while they were arguing, and stay with Feli since… You know… My door was kicked in and all from Turkey's blatant need to feel manly and stuff.

And then suddenly I hear…

"… Did Turkey… Kidnap you?"

… Well. Fuck. I mean yeah, it would be nice of him to help me out if he knew, but there was no way I wanted to be another topic for those two to argue over. Nonetheless I opened my big mouth.

"You think I'd be here otherwise?"

Ok, that was kind of mean. But still, Greece was going to think the worst of Turkey anyway, and I was tired of all the pointless arguing. I wanted to go home, dammit. And I was hungry. Unfortunately, there did not actually happen to be an end in sight for me, since this only ended up spiraling into another pointless and useless argument by the two quarrelling dumbasses. I really shouldn't have been surprised.

"I feel sorry for… You, Romano…" Greece managed through his natural haze of sleep.

Well. Whoop-dee-doo. He felt sorry for me.

"Lot of good that does me if you're not going to do anything about it, Greece," I responded, completely deadpan.

I might not be the brightest bulb in the box, but really, the stupidity of other people really amazed me sometimes. What good was his pity to me? He could feel sorry for me all he wanted, but unless he was willing to take some action, it didn't help me in the least. He was just using it as ammunition against Turkey.

Turkey, however, was not going to just sit there and take that.

"Fuck off you jackass! He's fine with me!" he insisted rather forcefully, shaking Greece violently by the collar, which I noticed he still had ahold of.

Greece was apparently to tired or too lazy to attempt to break the hold on his shirt.

"Sinking so low… Eh, Turkey…? Kidnapping people…"

"He's just my ally and is under Turkish rule!" the former empire spluttered, starting to sound just a tad desperate.

Ally? I never remembered becoming his ally. … Bastard. But, at the same time… Allying yourself with someone was a very, very serious move. It was… Almost a bit heartwarming... That he would consider himself allied with me, and looking after me in a way. B-but not really! I mean he was still a grade-A jackass!

"You just… Always… Need someone… Under your… Control, huh…?" Greece bit back, a spark of challenge (dull, because, you know it is Greece we're talking about) in his eyes.

I sighed irritatedly. They had lost sight of me again, derailed into their argument. It was worse than that eyebrows bastard and the French pervert!

"This is the complete opposite of helpful. The complete opposite," I muttered.

"H-hey! He came back with me of his own free will! R-right, Romeo? You want to be with me right now, don't you?"

In the background I could hear Alice and a hazy Prussia laughing at how desperate he sounded, but Turkey didn't seem to notice them at all.

And then he had his hands on my shoulders (They were really warm, it felt nice… Er.. Sh-shut up, I was… I was just cold! Yeah…) and seemed to almost be hiding behind me. Like I was some shield that was going to save his stupid argument. … Bastard. And so I had but one thing to say to him.

"I'm not getting in the middle of this shitfest."

He seemed to droop a little then, almost pouting, and no my cheeks did not go a little pink shut up. Puppy dog eyes totally don't work on me. No way. N-not even when they're such a pretty green. … Er. Anyway!

"You're… Wrong… Turkey. Japan would… Agree with me…"

"No, Japan would agree with me!"

Of course. The second someone decides not to take sides, it was back to arguing using someone else.

"Japan wouldn't agree with either of you dumbasses. He'd agree with America. Everyone knows that."

Hopefully, I thought to myself, that would stop their idiotic argument once and for all. It did absolutely nothing of the sort. Instead, it merely turned the attention back on me.

"Tell me… Romano… Are you under… "Turkish rule"… Of your free will…?" Greece asked.

Now, if that's not the dumbest question you've heard all day, raise your hand. I don't see any hands, so I'm going to assume you agree with me that it was the kind of question only an idiot would ask. I almost didn't dignify it with an answer. However, the chance to rub someone's idiocy in their face really isn't one I deign to pass up too often. You know me, after all. I have to put morons like Spagna in their place all the time.

"What kind of question is that?" I demanded. "I wouldn't be under anyone's rule of my own free will, whether it's Turkey's or not!"

And then… For some reason… I caught in my peripheral the slight little pout at the corners of Turkey's mouth, and the tiny… There was a hint of genuine sadness there… B-but I didn't feel bad or anything! I… I was just pissed off at Greece for being so useless and asking dumb questions!

"But if you're just using this to make your point, you can fuck off," I added. "And why don't you just go home, this bad argument routine is getting on my nerves. … Take the albino bastard with you too."

And maybe my heart did a teeny little leap when Turkey started to grin. He squeezed my shoulder slightly, and I didn't want him to see me blush so I threw a scowl his way and rolled my eyes. He'd seemed almost… Proud of me.

And… To be honest I was a little proud of myself too. Taking charge of the situation like that. Alice waved a cheery goodbye, supporting Prussia with one arm. Greece trudged out the door after them, mumbling about needing to take a nap and feed his most likely flea-infested cats. … Served him right.

And then… Everything was quiet again. It was kind of… Kind of nice. And maybe running away and giving up and booting Greece out the door was a little much, because… I started to yawn. Turkey smiled at me, and I didn't have the energy to grump at him for that look in his eyes that told me he thought it was a little sweet.

He tugged me over to the couch, and sat us both down, and… And maybe I kind of… I-I might have curled up next to him. I-I was tired, dammit! I wasn't in my right mind, ok? … But… H-he was pretty comfy…

"Night, Romeo."

I was interrupted from telling him it wasn't night with a yawn, and then I was out like a light.

The last thing I remembered was a gentle pat on the head, a little like what Mamma Carthage would do before sending me off to bed.


	11. Wherefore Art Thou, Peaceful Days?

**A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the last chapter. From now on, I'll be hopefully updating more regularly. Thank you so much to everyone who reads this story and stuck with me so long!**

**By the way, I guess this has been a long time coming too, but as to the tea vs coffee debate… I guess it doesn't matter which! But I did realize I thought there was something cute about an "old guy" like Turkey drinking tea, so…**

**Alice deleted her site, so I'm really sorry to everyone asking for directions…**

**I don't own Hetalia!**

After that incident with Greece, it was pretty quiet. … I-I mean comparatively. Like hell I wasn't going to argue with Turkey every chance I got. But, uh… Even though I'd never admit it to him… Turkey wasn't such a bad guy after all. He'd stood up for me, I mean… Said he'd protect me (even though there's no way I need protecting, dammit!)… He actually…

Seemed to care…

W-which was… It was a lot more than I could say for most people I knew.

Anyway… N-not much happened, like I said. Every so often, people would show up, since for… For some stupid reason, Turkey's house became the "Official Hangout Spot" of everyone after that. It was pretty stupid…

Er, but, I guess… Sadiq- …. Turkey, I-I mean—seemed about as annoyed as me that people kept popping in for no good reason. W-well… I guess I didn't mind seeing more of Alice… E-even if she could be a lot of trouble and stuff.

Anyway, even if people were annoying, it wasn't as if I wanted to be alone with Turkey or anything! N-no way! I still wanted to get home as soon as I could. … A-and dammit where the hell was Spain…?! Th-there was no sign of him, and Alice didn't seem to know where he was either…

N-not that I was worried about him. Stupid tomato bastard.

Turkey and I got into a routine. We'd wake up, o-or really… He'd wake me up (b-by knocking on my door, dammit, I-I did still have my own room, so don't think s-stupid Hungary-like thoughts or anything!) a-and we'd have breakfast together.

… And m-maybe I helped with the dishes. So what, dammit. I-I'm not so ungrateful that he was… Y-you know… Actually feeding me. Real food, I mean, not shit like that eyebrows bastard cooks. You know what I mean, no matter how much that guy denies it.

A-anyway, after breakfast a while, someone would usually come bursting in and being stupid, as usual. I guess we kind of got used to that though. Whether it was Alice wanting to go to some suspicious amusement park or France being a huge pervert bastard, w-we… We learned to deal with it.

… T-t-together…

And… A-and maybe I got used to him calling me "Romeo", a-and ruffling my hair, a-and that stupid, stupid smirk he got whenever… He was reminiscing… B-because if there was one thing I knew about stupid empire bastards, w-whether it was that eyebrows bastard, or Spagna, o-or even Turkey… They liked to reminisce.

I guess… M-maybe I can understand that. If I had ever been r-really powerful… I guess I'd want to think about it a lot to make myself feel better too. Even if those guys were all stupid assholes. Really stupid assholes.

But… Uh… It wasn't such a bad smirk. E-even if it was annoying a-and arrogant as shit. W-which it was! It really really was! B-but I did ask him what he was thinking about… B-because I was bored dammit! A-and because I'm such a damn nice guy! Not like I actually cared or anything what he was thinking about. N-no way.

So… Uh… S-so we spent a lot of time with him telling me stories, a-and me listening. And getting on his case when he got too damn arrogant, of course…! I-if he thought I wasn't gonna call him on his shit just because he was the one telling the story, he was dead wrong!

B-but uh… W-well, it…

It was actually kind of nice.

N-n-not that anyone would ever know that in a thousand years! No way! I'd die before I told that Turkish bastard that I m-maybe kind of a little bit… Enjoyed… S-spending time with him.

But… There… There was still one thing…

Late one night, Turkey caught me picking the lock on the front door.

I-I told you already, I don't care who, I-I never wanted to be ruled by anyone again! S-so even if… Even if Turkey wasn't such a… Such a terrible guy to be around… Th-that still didn't mean I wanted to be stuck in his house forever…! D-dammit…

But the second I felt that strong grip on the back of my collar…

I-I knew I was fucked.

And no I did not squeak, dammit…! Don't even ask! Bastards!

He lifted me up, with just that one hand—muscular bastard—and turned me to face him. His eyes were dark, a-and angry, except… There was… There was something else there too. I didn't… I didn't really know what it was at all.

He sighed, angrily.

"Look, it doesn't have to be like this, Romeo…!"

He was scolding me. Scolding me, and I hated it. I HATED it! I hated being scolded and talked down to…!

"No, no it doesn't!" I growled in return. "You could let me go!"

He stumbled back a step, almost imperceptibly, but I could tell because I swayed a little in his grip. And then he was defensive. I… I'd never really seen him defensive. It was… It was different than the childish desperation from when he was arguing with that lazy bastard Greece. It was… It was different.

"I can't! I won't!"

And… It… It kind of dawned on me that those were two completely different statements.

I… I'm not really the brightest bulb in the box, I… I-I'll admit it, dammit, but… I'm not an idiot, either. It didn't matter, really… W-what he meant, I mean. Because no matter what he meant, or what… What that implied…

I couldn't answer him.

I couldn't think…

Not of a single thing to say…

A-after a while, he set me down gently. Kind of… Nudged my shoulder, s-sent me up to bed. You know… And, I couldn't think of a reason not to go. I didn't feel like arguing anymore… Not with that look in his eyes. S-so I trudged up the stairs.

O-only…

Something made me stop on the landing and look back down.

Thankfully, he wasn't watching the stairs, instead… It looked like he had sat himself down heavily on the couch… And… His head was in his hands. A-and no matter… No matter how much of a jackass either of us was, I still couldn't help a little…

Just a twinge of pity.

There was something about that moment that made him more than Turkey, more than the former Ottoman Empire, more than the nation who had tried twice to kidnap me and had at last succeeded.

He was…

He…

He was…

"Sadiq…"

He didn't move as I near-silently tested the feel of his name on my tongue.

I turned and went back to what had been designated as my room, feeling an odd mix of comfortable heat and a twisting guilt in the pit of my stomach.

"M-maybe tomorrow… I'll try to behave. B-but don't count on it too much, you bastard."

I curled up in the too-large bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

"… I'm not used to this at all…"


End file.
